"If we don't fight, the field is lost." Bentre looked down from his office in th e Lion's Tooth. Even from here, he could see the Iron Throne's loyal landing. Compressing the button on his commlink, he cleared his throat before speaking in a grave tone. "Alright Shar Dakhan, this is it. Looks like that worm Pravus won't let our people stand against his corruption much longer. So let's repel these intruders. We are at war. To arms! For Naga Sadow!"
As though on cue, several Warhost starfighters circled in on the landing shuttles. Doubtlessly Aexod would be among them. Two green lances of energy shot from the TIEs, striking the ground soundly. Stahoes could not hear their screams, but the sight brought him a smile. He wouldn't normally take this kind of initiative, but with Darkblade hiding away on the Sadowan ISD, *Covenant* he could not afford to stand on tradition. In the absence of the Quaestor, the responsibility fell to him. "Push these kriffing idiots back. Show them that we are not going to be conquered. I do not care where your loyalties lie, Dakhani. Stand up and defend your home."
The scene below was quickly becoming a bloodbath. Two shuttles, one bearing the colors of Marka Ragnos and the other bearing the colors of Shar Dakhan, landed about a hundred feet away from the large transport from which the soliders of the Iron Throne were actively disembarking. Lightsabers were alight, and his fellows were charging headlong toward the invaders.
There were those in the Clan who stood alongside the Grand Master in his genocide of those labeled as Undesirable. There were those who stood with Sanguinius in protest of the slaughter of the Jedi. There were those who stood on the sidelines, being tied up in their own affairs, caring not either way. Bentre was sure there was even some in the Clan who stood aside because they merely feared the Grand Master’s wrath. Sometimes he even thought that Locke might be among them.
In that moment, it did not matter. They were standing together as a House, as a family to stand against this attack on their home. The commlink on his desk crackled. “Master,” the voice of his old friend hissed over the worn speaker, “the hands of the Iron Throne are pushing us back hard. What are you orders?”
“I need you all to hold on a little longer, Janos. Aexod and the others are vectoring in on your position to provide some support from above.” Three fighters screamed past the office window, flying in tight formation. Two black TIE - Interceptors came in from above the Lion’s Tooth, following quickly on the Warhost pilots.
They way they were flying was akin to a raptor on the hunt, with all the skill and grace of a Tarchalian gazelle. This battle was going to get more ugly quickly. Bentre turned from the window, clutching his personal commlink in hand. “All Dakhani and Warhost, this is Aedile Stahoes. I am on my way down, immediately.” The Sith drew a breath, blinking as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. “We are going to put the screws to these vermin, teach them to try to invade Sepros.
“Master!” The voice of Janos answered back, panic evident in his tone. “Another shuttle has landed. It looks like Atra is leading the Inquisitorius into the field.”
Bentre had to choke back a gasp. This fight was not going to go well. Now brother was plotted against brother, a Sadowan against his fellow Sadowans. The ties of blood would be stressed. Anger burned in his blood at the thought. This was going to be bad. He just hoped that this would not shake loose the close moorings of the Clan.